


Captivation

by auroraphia



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Angst, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Final Fantasy XIV: Stormblood Spoilers, Major Character Injury, Other, Pining, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2019-04-12
Packaged: 2019-06-07 01:41:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15208061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/auroraphia/pseuds/auroraphia
Summary: The Warrior turned on her heel, pulling on Zenos’s shackles once more. And behind her, she heard a low sigh of respite from him, barely discernible above the chilly evening winds churning the gravel into waves, his warm breath tickling her shoulder.





	1. Assize

**Author's Note:**

> ASSIZE (NOUN) Definition: A. A judicial inquest. B. An action to be decided by such an inquest, the writ for instituting it, or the verdict or finding rendered by the jury.  
> ASSIZE (WHM) A. Restores own HP and the HP of nearby party members. B. Cure Potency: 1,500

The sky was painted a faint creamy palette of sunset hues as a young woman sashayed unabashedly through the crowd, her long cape billowing behind her. Curious stares and murmurs echoed all around as she firmly pulled on the silver shackles around the Garlean man’s wrists. He grunted in slight annoyance as she roughly jerked him forward when he lagged too far behind, but he did not open his mouth to protest. 

Upon recognizing the face of the man who trailed behind her, golden locks of hair draped loosely over his shoulder, the crowd suddenly turned to a chorus of angered snarls. The general raised a hand in a half-hearted attempt to calm them down. Seeming to appease them for but a moment, he nodded in acknowledgement to the woman in front of him.

“Warrior of Light. What case have you for sparing the face of evil before us?”

She cleared her throat in anticipation, her anxieties a dull throb of cave bats inside her belly, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath to shake the ghosts of nerves trembling down her spine.

“He hath spared my life twice. Tis only fair that I had shown him the same mercy. That is all; nothing more, nothing less. This I swear to you, general.” She met his gaze almost defiantly, raising her chin with eyes of familiar fiery determination. “After all, Fordola was shown the same mercy. And I am sure he could prove as useful to us as she.”

At this, a howl of angry protest erupted from a young blonde woman standing behind the general. “What? You must be joking. After all we’ve been through? And you, of all people? After all he has done to us, to the people we’ve sworn to protect? You would dare to suggest we show him mercy?”

General Aldynn nodded as the crowd erupted into a chorus of furious trepidation. He rubbed his temples in thought. “Lyse is most justified in her anger. Surely, years of torture and hardship cannot simply be washed away as the blood on our gravel. What say you, Warrior?”

“I…” Her voice cracked. The noise, the echoes of those who have suffered were all too loud around them, blanketing her mind in barbed wires and thorns, their pain much too familiar to her bruised heart, enveloping her in a swirling cloud of their despair. “I must say that-“

“If I may,” the man next to her interjected, “I have a few words to share.” Behind mangled flaxen locks was an ill-fitting coy smile.

“Speak then, Zenos.” The general grunted, clearly irritated.

“I did not ask your Warrior to save me. But, as you see,” he gestured vaguely to the angered bystanders, “she clearly could not stop herself despite the opposition she knew she would face. Because,” he inched much too close for comfort to her much smaller frame, swinging his cuffed arms around her waist nonchalantly, pulling her to his chest, “clearly, we are lovers.”

Mortified, the Warrior hissed and jerked quickly away as if burned by the Garlean, who in turn had a look of the lion who caught the cattle, seemingly pleased with himself. Eyes widened in horrified shock, the crowd now stunned into an eerie silence at the accusation. His smug grin met them rather coquettishly, his chains rattling slightly with a sudden breeze. As murmurs of astonishment began to echo around them, General Aldynn looked the most confused the Warrior had ever seen him.

“No,” Lyse gave a small gasp, the fire in her eyes extinguished to an empty and defeated look as she flopped back down into her seat in shock.

“Twelve above, obviously he is lying.” Bristling in anger like a nesting coeurl, tail lashing angrily behind her, the Warrior snarled in frustration. “Can’t you see that? He’s trying to manipulate you, even now, as he stands in judgement before his death bed. This is just another fun little game to him.” Her gaze was of acid; her words laced with a venomous Auri growl.

“Then why pray tell, would the Warrior of Light defend a man like that?” General Aldynn countered, rubbing his chin in bemusement.

Before she could reply, a silver-haired Miqo'te stood. “If I may,” wary eyes turned to Y’shtola. “It’s rather simple, really - because he wants to die. Just as Fordola did. He would sooner escape than face judgement for his crimes. And he’d take our Warrior too, if he could. If we let him.”

Dropping her shoulders in relief, the Warrior relaxed and nodded in her direction. “Yes, exactly.” Her colleagues did not agree with her decision to save him, this she knew. It was evident in their worried expressions, their furrowed brows. But relief flooded her veins at their defense of her brash actions nonetheless.

At this, Zenos huffed indignantly, sneering. “If you will it, little hero, perhaps it will manifest itself into existence.”

Ignoring him irritatedly, she cleared her throat and continued with a newfound confidence. “Carrying the torch of peace has always been one of the greatest burdens of being the Warrior of Light. It is hard showing mercy to the very faces who threaten to break the tranquility we have fought so valiantly for, lost family and friends for. But mercy is what separates us from those monsters. They shall call us mongrels, but who are the first to execute? Not I, I wait to draw my sword when mine enemy does, and I certainly know not you, general. And I know from firsthand experience, that the greater of pains is to live. To live despite all who have died by one’s own hands. Take my words and do with them what you will. I have made my case, and I stand by it. I only hope that I didn’t waste precious aether on his throat.”

General Aldynn considered thoughtfully. “And if we spare him, what of the consequences of doing so? If they come to reclaim him?”

“They will not. To them, he is dead.”

“And if they find out he is alive, what then?”

“If he somehow manages to alert them to his sudden mortality in his weakened state and puts others in direct danger, I shall kill him myself.” 

At that, the lion-like man next to her chuckled darkly, a low purr-like sound in the back of his throat; he was clearly amused by the sentiment. “Oh you will, will you?”

“All right. And what do you suppose we do with him then, if he is to live?” The general asked, Lyse huffing in irritation next to him.

“He will not fully recover, I made sure of that, so once he is healed we may put him to work as his comrades have been. I’m sure you can find good use for him somewhere.” Another snort of disbelief.

General Aldynn nodded, seemingly making up his mind. “Alright, he may live. However, our dear Warrior-“ at her look of confusion, he laughed softly, “you are in charge of his cell for now, when you are not needed elsewhere.” Her mouth opened to protest, but the general interrupted her, shaking his head. 

“He is simply too unpredictable, even in this weakened state. We are not sure of his strength, so it would be safest this way. And… quite frankly, you may be the only soul in the vicinity that actually wants him alive...while simultaneously the only one who could come close to slaying the beast. Therefore, it shall be your Twelve-willed duty to either supervise him, or finish the job. And… the torch of peace, was it?”

Not being able to hide her exasperated sigh of irritation, she crossed her arms. “Fine. So be it. Anything else?”

“I believe that is all we needed to discuss. It is decided. Go now, Warrior. We could all use some rest after these eventful nights.” General Aldynn gave a wistful half-smile and for the first time the Warrior saw firsthand how much he had aged in just the past few moons, crow’s feet glistening as the sweat from his brow dripped down. As the group began to file out of the clearing, the Warrior turned on her heel, pulling on Zenos’s shackles once more.

And behind her, she heard a low sigh of respite from him, barely discernible above the chilly evening winds churning the gravel into waves, his warm breath tickling her shoulder.


	2. Benediction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BENEDICTION (NOUN) Definition: A. The invocation of a blessing, a prayer of benediction. B. Something that promotes goodness or well-being.  
> BENEDICTION (WHM) A. Restores all of a target's HP.

Coral clouds, a fuchsia sky, and cascading rose petals surrounded them in the extravagant menagerie; an eerie juxtaposition to their crusade.

It hadn’t turned out at all like she had envisioned, but very few things did.

A droll speech. A vigorous battle. The finality of their situation never dawned upon her until her eye caught the silver of his blade kissing the pale skin under his chin, bright in the reflection of the hot sun, and suddenly she was pulled out of her foggy haze with a jolt.

She managed to stop him mid-slice.

“ _No!_ ” She roared madly, her hair tousled from battle like a dark curtain obstructing her vision, bolting towards Zenos. 

“Gods _damn you! Damn it all!_ ” Her fingers deftly encased his throat as she tackled him to the ground, desperately grasping for aether already spent in the fray.

He coughed, sputtering blood, his lungs heaving heavily. “Why?” For the first time, the Warrior saw his face show a jumbled disarray of unknown emotions. Confusion. Panic. Then that wry, unforgiving smile.

“No.” She shook her head indignantly. “ _No._ ”

“Yes.” Zenos replied half-heartedly, looking rather detached despite the situation. “Why must you struggle, eikon-slayer? ‘Twas plain from the first how this would end.”

“Shut _up_.” She bit back, gripping his throat savagely, her healing magics casting a bright blue coating around her fingers. “You don’t get to end this… end this like _this_.”

“And why’s that?”

“You know _damned well why._ ” 

“Hmmph.” He snorted haughtily.

“You couldn’t let me win even _once._ ” She clenched her jaw, retorting bitterly.

“Pray forgive my indolence, then.”

“Don’t patronize me when I’m bloody well _saving your life_.” 

“I don’t recall asking that of you.” A gurgling sound came from his throat and he coughed, more scarlet droplets cascading down his jawline, down his throat, down his chest, down, down, down.

She rolled her eyes. “Shut _up._ You can barely even speak right now. Gods, do you _ever_ stop running your mouth?”

Zenos replied with nothing but a condescending smirk.

“Hold still. This might sting.” Focusing all of her power on the very tips of her blood-soaked fingers, the Warrior deftly traced the deep wound in small circles. She furrowed her brows as she mended it methodically, cooly sealing it. He hissed in agitation; the bleeding had finally stopped.

Pulling back on her haunches she took a moment to collect herself, gasping for air as she recuperated aether, swaying a bit and holding her forehead in her lethargic state.

Then only silence loomed between them as an ominous cloud on the horizon.

He looked her over almost expectantly. “And now what, hero?”

He had a point. She had no idea how to proceed. She was supposed to have slain him. They couldn’t find her like this, the blood of Zenos yae Galvus dripping down the Warrior of Light’s chest and fingers. And they’d be here any minute, surely frantically searching for her, likely hoping to celebrate her triumphant victory over a few rounds of mead and joyous song.

No, this wasn’t at all like she had envisioned, not at _all._

“Seven hells,” she wiped the sweat on her brow, accidentally smearing a blotch of crimson across her forehead. “What have I done?”

Cackling like a crow, slowly he rose to his feet, teetering back and forth a bit with one hand on a bended knee. “By the looks of it, treason. My... how interesting.” He gave her a once-over, causing her to burn uncomfortably, smug at the sight of his blood staining her skin. “Your mercy, though amusing, will surely be your downfall. Such is your weakness.” He muttered under his breath.

“Sparing you is no mercy, nor weakness. And that sounds quite threatening... for one who may very well never see battle again.”

At that, Zenos gripped his sword in a weak gesture of defiance, attempting to unsheathe it. He watched in horror as it slipped from his fingers and clattered to the ground before he could raise it towards her, as he always had. For once, he was seemingly at a loss for words. He stared down at it dumbly.

Suddenly, the deep cry of a horn bellowed, startling them back into reality. They were coming.

“Damn it,” the Warrior hissed, filled with dread. “That’s them. We must away.” Apprehensive and seething with anger beyond what she had ever known with herself, she stomped forward to him. 

“I know the way.”

And with a hasty tug of his wrist, tossing her linkpearl to the flowerbeds, she began to run.

_____________________________________

They found themselves southwest of The Ala Mhigan Quarter, soaked from an extraordinarily rare bout of thunderstorms, sand and raindrops in a tumultuous mix enveloping them all around. Her legs and feet ached as if stepping on hot coals and thorns, her body still battered and bruised from the fray before; but no pain could match that of the one inside her chest, the guilt burning there, eating away at her insides.

“There,” Zenos shakily lifted a weary arm to point towards a stone formation the distance, “there’s a dip in the rocks that way. Mayhap a cavern.” She nodded and let him lead the way to the spot. 

Suddenly with a low growl, she stopped him at the mouth of the cave with a raised arm. “Wait. Let me check first.”

Clearly offended, he grunted in annoyance. “You _can’t_ be serious.”

“As if you could defend yourself from a beast in your state.”

“I could say the same to you,” he spat irritatedly.

“Well…” Pressing her eyelids closed in a vain attempt to control herself, she drew in a deep breath. _If we’re in this situation for the long run, I must at least attempt to get along with this… beast._ Feeling rather awkward, she cleared her throat. “I suppose we look the part, at least. Perhaps any beast inside there would think us one of their own, ugly warts and all.” She quipped lightly, but soon lost her desire for pleasantries as it dawned upon her just how ghastly they appeared. Their hair was tousled and matted down, having been dirtied by the rain, blood and sand; their lips cracked and splitting, their eyes bloodshot with dark sunken circles underneath. The very sight of them would likely frighten any nearby adventurers; perhaps they would even think the pair were ghosts, or some other vile, undead entity. 

He snorted at that. “Hah. Only I.”

The wheels in her head spun a bit too slow in her fatigued state, and before the Warrior realized what he had implied, that Zenos may have just _complimented her_ , he was already heading inside the cavern.

Lighting a match with deft fingers, the flame lighting up her face into brilliant ruby hues in the blackness, she trailed after him. It was rather small, with stalactites on the floors and ceiling, but could easily fit multiple wanderers inside. She pondered for a moment if any traveling passerbys, be it adventurers or merchants, would often find refuge here. Distracted by her worry, her foot hit metal and she tripped, the offending object clamoring across the stone floor.

“ _Easy,_ ” he caught her by the shoulder with a long arm. As they collided, the match she held bumped into the skin of his hand and he involuntarily jerked away, hissing in pain.

“Ah… sorry.” She grimaced. _Did I actually just say sorry? Gods._ He shrugged aloofly and continued walking towards the end of the cave as if nothing had happened. 

She brought her match close to the object, letting the luminous glow envelop it, and let out a relieved sigh as she realized it was a large lantern. “Thank the Twelve, we won’t be forced to live like bats.” Further down, there were two torches covered in cobwebs, a few lightly dusted wooden crates, and a three cloudy empty glass bottles of moonrise ale. She let out a small excited gasp; thinking quickly, she grasped the bottles and ran towards the cave entrance.

“What in the seven hells are you doing, woman?” Zenos shouted after her, but she ignored him as she stepped into the downpour. She filled them with rainwater a few times, rinsing them out until the crystal glasses shone clear, then lifted one to her chapped lips, downing it eagerly. Bringing them back inside now filled, she discovered him now nursing a small fire made of one of the boxes. _That was fast._

“Here.” She handed him one of the bottles. At his quizzical look, she explained. “It’s rainwater. Are you not at all parched after this?” His cerulean eyes lit up at that, and he grasped the glass from her impatiently, draining its contents in long, greedy gulps as if it were honeyed nectar and not dirtied rainwater.

“You’re _welcome._ ” She cackled haughtily at his brazen nature, finally settling down against the cold stone wall with a pleased sigh. Compared to what she had been through in the past sun, it felt like a feathered bed filled with the finest karakul fleece. “By the Gods, I’ve never been so tired.”

Finishing off the bottle, his lips made an obnoxious smacking sound against the glass. “I can still taste a hint of mead.”

“Well pray forgive me for not cleaning it to your liking, _your highness_.” The Warrior snarled in defiance, staring daggers at the lion-like man, who lay sprawled on the floor leisurely in front of the fire as if he were on some sumptuous royal Garlean daybed and not filthy stone.

“That was not a complaint-” He chuckled wryly, but was cut off by a sudden onslaught of coughing. His body convulsed and writhed around wildly as he attempted to gain control of his lungs, letting out short panicked breaths.

At his side in an instant, she gripped his throat with a magic-encased hand. “Hold _still!_ ” She barked. His thrashing and sputtering coughs ceased at her touch and he glared at the ceiling in indignation, clearly irritated by his helplessness. “There. Better?”

“Hmmph.” Zenos grunted.

“You know, a simple ‘thank you’ every now and then would suffice.” The Warrior rose to her feet, crossing her arms with a scowl.

“And I never asked for your help. Your heroic complex is no fault of mine, savage.” He followed her up, towering over her.

“You _dare_ belittle me with that awful word when you cannot even practise simple mannerisms?” Bristling with true anger now, she raised her voice and poked his chest with a stiff finger, standing on her tiptoes trying to gain more height. “And another thing-”

A deep, menacing growl sounded from him.

“Really, and now you’re _growling_ at me like some sort of beast? You-”

“...That was not I.”

Eyes widening in realization, slowly she sidestepped and peered behind him towards the entrance of the cavern… and caught the gaze of one menacing eye. A grotesque minotaur stood, fouled sand-colored fur matted from the showers, likely returning to its home. And by the looks of its heaving snout, it was ready for its next meal.

“ _Seven hells_ , get down!” With a screech, she pushed him aside as he attempted to unsheathe his sword. “Don’t try that now, just stay out of my way!” The minotaur roared at her with a hot vile-smelling breath, its horns rearing fiercely. 

Pushing past it and running outside, she hit it with a few strong stoning spells to aggravate it. _Gods above, that is the largest Minotaur I’ve ever seen… must be the hunted Mahisha?_ Successfully luring out of the cave and into the rain, away from Zenos, she tried to move it further away so if found by others it would be far enough so as not to draw suspicion. Once satisfied, she took it down with ease.

Trotting towards the cavern, she found him standing nonchalantly against the wall at its opening, arms folded with a stern expression. Zenos had been watching.

“Worried?” The Warrior smirked in response.

“No. Contemplating. Would it be safe to skin it for meat and material, or a risk.” He stroked his chin.

Her stomach growled at the reintroduction of the concept of food. She’d always been a heavy eater, and she hadn’t had even a bite in almost two days, too apprehensive to eat before the resistance were to put their plans in motion. Before they were to battle.

And now she was here, with the very cause of that apprehension, on the run with him. _Twelve help me..._

“As exhausted as I am, and as appetizing as a meal sounds, I must agree it’s too much a risk. But I can hunt for us in the morning.” She frowned. “That reminds me, give me your sword for a moment.”

She thought he would hesitate, but likely too curious to bother asking, he grasped it with two shaking arms and handed it off to her. Sauntering back to where she had slain the minotaur, she gave its carcass quite a few half-hearted slices for good measure. _There. Now no one will know a mage alone had slain it._

Zenos seemed thoroughly amused by her antics as she returned his sword to him. 

“You know, you might have an easier time lifting things without your armor. That must be damned heavy.” She quipped with a coy grin, resting a hand on her hip casually.

Rolling his eyes, he groaned in annoyance and retreated to his place by the fire, but started to peel his armor off piece by piece, dropping it lazily towards the back of the cavern.

He seemed leaner than his armor let off, as she suspected. The armor was no doubt heavily genetically modified and molded to him, made to make him look even more bulky and intimidating to others. Thankfully, he wore more than his smallclothes underneath his armor - now he sat nursing the fire in a light gray fleece button-down and worn hempen breeches. His long, mane-like messy golden locks were pulled to the side. He looked significantly more human now, she observed with a half-smile, his face lit up in sunset hues from the firelight.

“Are you going to stand there sopping wet and staring like a timid doe, or are you going to dry yourself by the fire?” He asked gruffly, without tearing his gaze away from the flames.

Startled out of her trance, she felt a light heat coloring her cheeks in embarrassment at her rude behavior. She sat across from him with crossed legs and stared instead at the stars outside of the cavern, mapping the various constellations in her mind with a hum in a vain attempt not to let her thoughts wander. _Lest I go mad..._

Suddenly she felt the pressure of his intense ogling, staring at her through the thicket of the flames. “You yourself are still wearing armor.”

“Oh,” she uncrossed her legs and curled them close to her, wrapping her arms around them. “Well... I only have smallclothes underneath, since this wasn’t… planned. I’d rather not undress.”

“I see.” An awkward silence loomed between them for many a heartbeat as the fire flickered on.

“Do you have anything to sleep with?” 

“Hm?”

“Something soft to rest our heads against. Any ideas?”

He pondered this for a moment. “None that do not require hunting, no. Or buying from a nearby merchant.”

She furrowed her brows. “I highly doubt either of us could get away with that considering our notoriety…” Realization of how dire their situation was at the moment suddenly washed over her. “ _Gods._ ” She buried her face in her hands. “Oh, Gods… _help me._ What have I _done._ ” 

Zenos sighed at her frantic chortling. “Accept it, little hero. You decided it must be, now live with it.”

“Speak for yourself!” The Warrior bristled in retaliation. “This whole mess started with _you_ deciding you could _not_ live with your decisions!” 

He chuckled darkly as he fed the fire with what remained of the wooden boxes. “So... _that_ is what you think of it.”

“And what else, pray tell, could anyone _possibly_ think?”

“Must we always argue, woman? I am tired. Our wood is spent. Let us turn in for the night.”

“Fine.” She muttered irritatedly, turning away from him towards the cave wall and closing her eyes for sleep.

_____________________________________

A moon passed as they carried on their way. The Warrior hunting, the Garlean recovering and skinning her every catch, as slowly they made themselves more comfortable; pelts as blankets, meats seasoned with the fragrant herbs she found along the riverbank. She knew she must return, but how? And when? And would he return _with_ her? How? What would they say, what would they do? She considered bringing it up to him, but stopped herself each time, the coeurl catching her tongue. This time, however- she didn’t hesitate.

“I must go back.” She stopped him as he carried fresh firewood into the cavern.

“Are you daft?” Zenos spat back crossly. “Do you understand what they will do?”

“I don’t think they will do anything to me, other than demand an explanation in their confusion, and perhaps… worry for my mental state. You, on the other hand…”

“I don’t quite think you understand.” He leaned against the wall and folded his arms. “If our roles were inverted. They would think… such things.”

“What _things?”_ She replied, losing her patience by the second, knowing he was toying with her.

He looked mildly amused with her naivety. “Tis plain that if anyone from my background was found sleeping with a savage… especially someone of _such_ high status, they would-“

“What, but we aren’t- what are you even saying?” Flustered, her eyes widened as her arms flailed wildly around with her speech. “That _obviously_ is not the case!”

“But perhaps they may think it is so. Look around. You must see what it all implies.”

“Not if I insist that it is _not_ so!”

“If you insist? Are you so sure?” He paced towards her coyly in the same saunter he always had, only this time in a different sort of predatory manner. Her mouth agape, she froze in place as he gingerly pulled a lock of her hair from behind her ear, twirling it around a slender finger. Smugly, he gravitated down closer to her, breath hot against her face, only to pull away before they were leveled eye to eye.

Shaking off her shock, she placed her hands on her hips. “We are going back. We can’t survive like this forever. Sooner or later, they will find us anyhow. It would be ideal to turn you in. And you _must_ pay for your crimes, whether you like it or _not._ ”

“Hmmph. And after all your hard work on my throat…” Zenos murmured absentmindedly.

“They won’t kill you. Not if I tell them not to.”

He laughed bitterly at that. “Twas you who forced me to live. So be it. We shall go back, then. I simply cannot _wait_ to view the looks on your comrades’ faces when they learn of your betrayal.”

The Warrior rolled her eyes. “They know me. It is not so simple. ‘Role reversal’ doesn’t work when my ‘comrades’ are my friends who know my heart, not just frightened loyal subjects who I’d slaughter on a whim like cattle.”

“Do you imply that I do not know of friends?” Zenos raised a brow.

She crossed her arms with a lopsided smirk. “You said yourself that I was your first friend.”

“Twas a bluff.”

“Mhmm. I’m sure.” She grinned, “but you didn’t deny slaughtering them.”

“ _Nos sumus manus, nos sumus deus._ I brought them to justice if needed.”

“That’s an eloquent little way of saying you killed people.”

“And you have not, eikon slayer?” Zenos refuted.

A pause. “Only if they deserved it.”

“Then we are of the same vein.”

The Warrior hesitated, fully decomposing the idea that he had imposed time and time again during their battles, only this time, she considered her recent act. 

“No... we’re not,” she mused, “we’re not at all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I spent a lot of time re-doing this chapter because I never seemed to be satisfied, I hope it turned out okay in the end! This was a look at before the trial, the next chapter will be back in the present.  
> Also... why the heck does this still feel short? Gosh writing is a pain in the ass (and I love it.)


	3. Asylum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> –– ASYLUM (NOUN) Definition: A: The protection granted by a nation to someone who has left their native country as a political refugee. B: An institution offering shelter and support to people who are mentally ill. (WHM) A. Envelops a designated area in a veil of succor, healing any party members who enter.

_ “Hold still.”  _ Deftly dipping a woolen rag into a concoction of herbal paste, the Warrior lifted the dripping cloth towards Zenos, encasing his throat wound with her hands. “This could sting.” With a soft hum, she casted a strong healing spell.

As soon as the cloth dropped and her hands met his skin to seal the spell, he practically roared in a huff of pain, withdrawing from her touch immediately. “That  _ hurts _ .”

“I told you, it’s  _ supposed _ to.” She furrowed her brow in annoyance. “That’s how healing works. It becomes worse before can become better. Now, hold  _ still _ .”

He growled and pulled away. “I will  _ not _ . Clearly, this is not working.”

“Yes, it is. It  _ will _ work. I’ve been healing since I was a child. Do you truly doubt that I know what I’m doing?” She snapped, irritated at his childlike behavior. “By the Gods, it’s like you’ve never been hurt before.”

Sullen eyes lowered to the ground. He was silent for a moment. “I have not.”   
  
“You… have not? What do you mean? Even as a child, surely you must have at least scraped a knee, or…?” Her eyes widened in shock.

He shook his head, tangled golden hair swaying with the motion. “I have never felt this… felt such a pain.”

A look of horror crossed the Warrior’s face, “Surely, you…” Then realization dawned upon her. The surprised hiss at the burning of his hand. The shock at having a coughing fit, and not knowing how to deal with it. Not knowing that pain occurs, and that it passes. He had truly  _ never been in pain _ . “What in the  _ hells _ … how is that even possible?”

“I have always been numb to such things.” He shrugged. “There is no need for them in battle. Less risk when pain is not involved.”

“There is  _ absolutely _ a need for them. You’re supposed to feel pain so that you may understand what you should and should not do, like when a child touches a heated cooking pot. Pain teaches us many things.”

He paused to consider.

“And besides, there’s more to life than battle.”

“Hmmph,” Zenos rolled his eyes, instantly dismissing her words. “Nothing worth pursuing.”

Almost offended, her back arched and her knees lifted her body as to be eye level with the cross-legged prince, unable to hide her irritation.“Life outside of battle better prepares you for battle, the choices you make, and the consequences of those choices… and so much more. Which  _ you _ wouldn’t know about since you  _ apparently _ didn’t even  _ feel anything _ until now!”

His body responded in turn, craning his neck to tower over her. “Pain and emotions are useless, they hinder soldiers, force us to stay within our limits. Without pain, we are limitless in combat. Without emotions, we do not allow such petty things to fall in the way of duty.”

The Warrior snarled in defiance. “They allow us to  _ grow _ . I would not have grown strong enough to match you without my pain and emotions. They drive us to  _ do better _ . The pain and sorrow I have felt, losing loved ones, seeing others have their homes destroyed, children ripped from their families, soldiers forced to fight those they once called comrades... the pain of war drove me to defeat  _ you _ .”

Zenos lowered his body, returning to his natural half-smile. Suddenly, the Warrior realized how close their faces had become in their quarrel, and she instantly jerked back, staring blankly at the hard stone walls of his cell. Amused, his eyes became half-lidded in interest. He smirked at the Warrior, almost gloating. “And yet, you saved me all the same.”

Her eyes widened, the slow realization of her consequential actions simmering in the back of her mind. Cursing under her breath, she grabbed the rag and the herbal paste and sauntered towards the door, tail swishing angrily behind her. Slamming his cell door hard behind her, she heard him chuckling from down the hall.

_ He can rot, for all I care. _

_ ____________________________________________________________ _

_ “Where is the Warrior of Light?”  _ In a panic, an Alliance soldier was shouting outside the courtyard of the encampment. Said Warrior had just arrived after assisting local settlements with miscellaneous deeds, and  _ had _ been looking forward to a calm evening of rest.

Alas.

_ “The Garlean prince has gone missing!” _

_ “What?” _ She screeched angrily, bolting towards the direction of the prisoner’s ward. Furiously prying the lock open, she ran to his cell.

It was empty.

Staring in blank shock, she ran to the guards, roaring madly. “What is the meaning of this? Where  _ is _ he? How could he even escape in his state?”

They looked almost embarrassed, shuffling uncomfortably in their armor. “He threatened us. We… we did all we could do.”

“Seven  _ hells _ ,” she rolled her eyes. “Where did he go?”

“We don’t know. He went towards the town.”

“Towards  _ civilians _ ?” Horrified, she practically shrieked. “And you did  _ nothing _ about it?”   
  
“What can we do about it? No one dares face him except for the Warrior of Light.”

Voice dripping with venom, she gritted her teeth. “I am sure the General would just  _ love _ to hear you say that to his face. Why not tell him, before I do?”

The guards looked positively panicked. Ignoring their pleas to her, she rushed towards the direction of the town. Cautiously, she peered around the corners of buildings, careful not to disrupt any villagers so not to draw suspicion to something being  _ so wrong. _

There was no sign of him anywhere.

Eventually, she found herself almost as panicked as the quivering guards. She checked almost every single building, and nothing. Had he ran back to the Empire? Has he regained his strength?

Did she just put everyone she loved in danger with her brash decisions?

She found herself in the town’s small library, an archive the villagers had slowly been rebuilding after losing so much history from the war.  _ That’s it. He’s gone. He can’t possibly be… _

Seated cross-legged in the corner of the library with a large book in his lap, a small pair of reading glasses gracing his nose, was Zenos. He flipped the pages nonchalantly.

_ …here. _

Her jaw dropped to the floor.

“What in the  _ hells _ ?” The Warrior yelled, immediately shushed by the bookkeeper on duty. They didn’t seem to even  _ see _ Zenos, let alone care that a  _ literal war criminal _ was sitting in their abode, reading like he owned the bloody place.

“Ah, it’s you.” He looked up from his book with a smile. “I was lacking in enrichment.”

“I… can see that.” Still in shock, she had no idea how to respond.

“A little difficult to find. The guards would not tell me where. Instead they mumbled in fear. Quite rude, as I could have used directions. Though I expect no less from savages.” He flipped to the next page.

Closing her eyes slowly, she pinched the bridge of her nose in exasperation.  _ I’m going to lose my Gods-damned mind. _

“Look…” She sighed. “If you want to... read or whatever, I can bring you books. That’s fine. But you have to stay in your cell.”

He frowned at that. “I quite enjoy this… small, quiet place. But if you insist, little hero.” A wry smirk.

“Your cell is also a small, quiet place. And you know what else is?  _ Death. _ ”

Chuckling darkly, he turned the next page.  _ Is he ignoring me? _

“Come on, we have to go before the General finds out that-”   
  
_ “That the Garlean prince has escaped?” _ Behind her, the General’s voice boomed angrily. 

The Warrior winced as she turned to face him. “Ah… Raubahn. So nice to see you!” She waved her hands in a panic. “This… I promise this isn’t what it looks like. I, ah… was supervising him!”

He raised a brow. “I do not remember allowing such an occurrence.”

“I thought it may be good for him. For… reformation. Purposes.”   
  
The General tilted his head. “And so you told no one of this event, allowing several Alliance guards to rile up much of the town in search?” Her jaw opened to reply, but no words came.

Unfazed, Zenos casually closed his book and rose from his seat. “Shall we head back?” He asked the Warrior nonchalantly, ignoring Raubahn completely. She nodded to Zenos, gripping his wrist as if to show she was taking charge of the situation as she had no shackles or rope... but the General quirked a brow at the gesture, reading it in a much different light.

“We will discuss this. Later. Alone.” Raubahn warned her in concern.

With a gulp, the Warrior nodded, “of course. I will see you later. I must re-dress his wounds first.” She pulled him along with her to the door in a rush to escape the tense situation. Unbeknownst to her, Zenos turned as they walked to deliver a smug smile to the General.

“Are you  _ quite sure _ you must. Perhaps we should discuss this first.” Raubahn replied through gritted teeth in warning. “Lyse wanted to speak to you as well.”

She flinched, turning back around. “Lyse? Did she know this happened?”

“No, but I am sure she will like to hear it from you first.”   
  
“Ah…” The Warrior grimaced. “Then what did she need? Are the Scions okay?”   
  
“I am unsure. Ask her yourself.” And with that, the General allowed the two to head back to the cell unbothered.

As soon as they entered, she whipped around to face Zenos, bristling with anger. “See what you did? Now everyone is going to want to kill you.” She poked his chest with a finger. “And  _ then _ what do we do? It was hard enough to convince them the first time, and now you go and do  _ this. _ ”   
  
“Then I die. As it shall be.”   
  
“No.” She hissed. “I’m not going to let you die.”

“Why?” For the first time, she saw true confusion swelling beneath the surface of his sapphire gaze like a hurricane. “Why must you force me to live?”   
  
“Because you forced  _ me _ to live. To  _ endure. _ To  _ survive _ .” She mocked his voice bitterly, dramatically slamming his cell door behind her. 

Leaning against the cell door, she slowly slid down. Pulling her knees to her chest and allowing a few rogue tears to slide down her cheek, she was careful to keep silent so the lion-like man inside his cage would not taunt her any longer with his incessant growling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SURPRISE! I bet you thought you'd seen the last of me.  
> I have the story's end mapped out, just not the filler in the middle, so bear with me. :')  
> How about that last patch's ending tho? YIKES.

**Author's Note:**

> Hiya! I'm Aurora. This is my first Final Fantasy XIV fic. :) I'm not new to fic writing, but I haven't written anything in over seven years, so cheers to FFXIV for luring me back in with these fantastic characters (that I just can't wait to destroy tbh.) I have some other works written for other ships that will be uploaded soon too! (It actually surprises me that I'm uploading the Zenos one first, ahaha...)
> 
> So this first chapter is rather short - next chapter will be a flashback of the events before this, which will be at the end of Stormblood's main story (though you've probably already figured that out.) Just wanted to set the stage before then. Other than that and a few other scenes I have written out already, I'm really not sure where I'm going with this yet... and by that I mean I totally know what I'm doing, so you should totally stay tuned for more. Yep. Totally.


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